by J. M. Kearl
I took the stem between my fingers. “Someone who wants to take me to the winter formal. Don’t worry, it’s not Kyan.”
He snatched the note away from me.
“Excuse me, that’s mine,” I said reaching for it but he kept it out of my grasp.
“Connor?” he questioned, and then tossed it back to me. “Connor who?”
I huffed and tucked the note in my book. Tells me there can’t be anything between us and now this? “Connor none-of-your-business.”
“If it’s Goldheart, good luck with that bumbling buffoon.”
I scoffed. “He’s not a buffoon. Sounds like you’re jealous.”
“He’s a good fighter, I’ll give him that but otherwise what is there to be jealous of?” His lips formed a hard line. “But, you know what, he’s the type your parents would want you with. A Delhoon warlord’s son. A magic-born.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. Why would he say that?
A bird chirped, signaling the end of class. Zyacus shot up and left before I had a chance to say anything.
∞∞∞
At lunch I thought about how I was going to respond to Connor. Should I walk up to him and say yes? Send a note? I’d never done this sort of thing.
Legacy twirled my rose in her fingers. “If I was you, I’d go over to Connor right now so Prince Zyacus can see.”
“Why do you want to cause drama?” Taz asked, shaking his head. “Connor is a better choice for Visteal anyway. He’s a warlord’s son and Delhoon. Zyacus is—the rival.”
He may be the better choice but he’s not the one I want. Why must we always want what we can’t have?
“It’s not drama. And he is our ally now,” Legacy said, bopping Taz on the head with the rose. “It’s showing Zyacus that Visteal is a desired woman.”
I laughed and Taz rolled his eyes. I left the lunchroom unsure what to do. When classes ended for the day, I headed toward the girls’ dorms. Atticus sauntered out of a cat hole and bumped into my legs. “How long are you going to make Connor Goldheart wait?”
“How do you even know about that?”
“We cats know the gossip at this academy.”
“Right,” I said slowly. “Well, I was thinking I’d talk to him—”
“I can deliver a message,” Atticus offered excitedly.
Who knew cats liked to play matchmaker as well as gossip? I stopped at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the Delhoon girls’ dorms. “If you insist. Tell him I’ll meet him at his sparring practice.” I was pretty sure that the seventh year tournament competitors started to practice an hour after classes.
“Certainly, Princess.” Atticus darted through a cat hole.
When I arrived in the common room, I grabbed a snack and sat on the sofa. Propping my feet up on the armrest, I munched on a handful of nuts. Just when I thought I could relax and try to think about nothing while staring at the enchanted butterfly ceiling, a pair of nearby cats argued about their charges. I turned my head slightly to see them.
“My Elora is so much better at magic than your Penelope,” said the short black-haired with white feet.
“How dare you!” the orange tabby growled. Paws started batting faces and high pitched growls filled the room, I giggled quietly to myself even though I probably should have tried to break them up.
Atticus jumped on my lap and began purring. I petted his head and he sat on my belly. “Connor is excited but nervous. You did not give an answer, you only said you would meet him.”
“I plan on saying, yes.”
“Prince Zyacus will be there too.” Atticus smiled. “Not that you would care to know that bit of information or anything.”
Oh, Atticus. After lying on the sofa with Atticus for a while, I got up and made my way to the sparring area. My eyes searched through the crowd and I found Zyacus before Connor. He was talking and laughing with a boy I didn’t recognize from Hesstia.
Connor stood with a group of three others. Everyone looked to be waiting for Madison and the other instructors to arrive. I wouldn’t be permitted to practice with them so I sat in the grass off to the side. The boy talking to Zyacus pointed in my direction and the prince turned. They exchanged a few more words and then he headed my way.
Moments later Connor took notice of me and at a much faster pace, jogged over and Zyacus stopped at the halfway point and turned around. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little disappointed.
Connor sat down beside me. “Hello, Princess. Did you get my rose? The pixie was already a little tipsy so I was worried she might not make it.”
“I did get it,” I said and giggled, remembering how the pixie crashed into the door. “And I accept your invitation.”
“Really?” He seemed genuinely shocked. “I was a little nervous. Will your parents, I mean the king and queen, be accepting of my invitation? Should I have asked your father first? Will he be upset? Uh, I’m talking too much.”
I arched my eyebrow. Maybe he is sort of a bumbling buffoon. And it’s not like this is a marriage proposal. “They’re not as conventional as you might think.”
“I know I was completely shocked when I saw you were on dish duty. Even my parents don’t make me.” He nudged my arm with a half-smile. “Of course I don’t get into trouble either.”
Did everyone notice when I was on dish duty?
The line of five professors walked from the academy in our direction, and Connor hopped to his feet. “I have to go. Are you going to stay?”
I nodded. “I’ll watch for a little while.” I didn’t have anything else to do except study and that could wait.
When the matches began Zyacus seemed to be in a particularly foul mood, hitting harder and grunting more than I’d ever seen him. Connor’s grin hadn’t seemed to fall once. I hoped they didn’t go up against one another. Ugh, this seemed like a game, where I was only using Connor to make Zyacus jealous. But I’m not, am I? Zyacus said it and I agreed; he and I shouldn’t be anything more than friends— allies. We are in line for the throne for both our kingdoms. This is the best decision. I felt like I was reciting lines from a book that had no meaning. At this point, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore and say I didn’t like him. Good phoenix flying, did I not hate him. I wasn’t even sure when that changed but it became apparent to me as I watched him grappling with another boy on the grass.
My grandmother made her way over to me and curled her fingers, telling me to stand up. I did and she folded her arms watching the practices. “What are you doing here?”
“Connor asked me to winter formal. I came to tell him I’d go and thought I’d watch.”
Madison gave me a sideways look. “Connor Goldheart? The kid is good but he annoys me. He rambles like an idiot half the time.”
I blushed and cleared my throat. “I don’t know him very well.”
“Next time come to me first, if you don’t know the boy asking,” Madison said. She dashed forward and broke up a fight that was getting out of hand between two girls. Bloody faces and hair-pulling had gone to the next level. This was supposed to be practice. During the commotion Zyacus appeared at my side.
I jumped and let out a squeak. “You scared me.”
“I’m assuming by Goldheart’s stupid grin, you said ‘yes’.”
I folded my arms and nodded. “I did, now you don’t have to take me to save me from Kyan.” I glared at him. “Like I needed saving in the first place.”
He clenched his jaw. “You are just,” he huffed a short breath, “damn it, you piss me off sometimes.” And then he disappeared and went back to sparring. Oh, like you don’t piss me off? I sighed and walked back into the academy.
Chapter 26
With crisp, cool evening air, I went for a run. The cold bit at my cheeks as my feet pounded on the ground. The whistle of the breeze in the treetops, the chirp of the crickets, played a relaxing melody. A pixie fluttered next to me for a moment then with trailing glitter, sped off. Despite the burning in my legs and lungs, I ran until I reac
hed the edge of the lake and looked out over the water. I removed my boots and dipped a toe in, a chill ran up my body. Thinking back on it, it would have been funny to see Zyacus jump into such cold water after losing the bet. His lips would have turned blue.
Crunching footsteps caused me to turn. A pair of Collweyan girls waved as they jogged by. I sat on a patch of grass and picked up a rock and with a flick of my wrist, flung it. The pebble bounced once and then sunk.
A second pebble hit the lake top and bounced four times before it went under. I turned to Zyacus, who tossed another rock, I didn’t look to see if it skipped.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, not unkindly.
He sat beside me and gazed at the water. “Looking for you.”
“Is something wrong?”
He smirked, looking down at his hands. “Why would something have to be wrong for me to look for you?”
I tapped my foot against the rocky, muddy shore of the lake. I supposed I always expected the worst of him. “It doesn’t, I only thought—”
“You thought that I couldn’t possibly want to find you simply to enjoy your company.”
I wasn’t sure where the sudden turn of behavior came from. I’d seen glimpses of this but I’d always thought he had an ulterior motive of some kind. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe I should actually give him a chance. He was at least making an effort.
“What is it like to be the prince of Hesstia?” I asked. Most of what I knew was the worst of his kingdom, the history. My grandfather, imprisoned for ten years for the use of magic, where he was nearly starved to death after being forced to kill others in a fighting arena for sport. Zyacus’s uncle, who was king at the time, nearly executed my mother, Madison and Papa in front of the kingdom; my father saved them.
Silence filled the air between us for a long few moments. I thought he wouldn’t answer.
“My father made sure I was the best I could be.” His throat bobbed. “When it was apparent I didn’t have an affinity for magic right away, he took away my toys so I would focus. Most of my free time was filled with lessons of some kind. He forced my tutors to make sure I was well ahead of what anyone would expect. If that meant I was hit or burned with a hot poker then healed or went without food for the day for messing up then that is what the tutors did.” He paused and I felt sick to my stomach. “‘You are the first prince of Hesstia to use magic,’ Father said, ‘you must be the best. You must never let them take our land.’ Of course he wasn’t there when the tutors hurt me. I don’t think he meant for that to happen. I don’t know why I never told on them.”
“I—’’ I stammered, unsure what to say. I wanted to take his hand, to comfort him but I didn’t. “I never knew. I’m sorry they were cruel to you.” I also never knew that King Enden was worried we Delhoon wanted to take his land. There has never been talk of invading Hesstia to my knowledge.
He shrugged and finally looked at me. “I suppose I should thank them. I have excelled because of it.”
I dug my toes into the soft soil and gritted my teeth. “There are much better ways to motivate someone. Especially a child.”
“Well, when Porthos raised his hand against me when I was fourteen, I blasted him across the room and held a dagger to his throat, he never tried again. I think he was waiting for me to do that.”
“I’m glad you did.” I only wished he’d done so sooner. When I thought back to a time when our parents met up for a few days on kingdom affairs, he being a ten-year-old boy pulling my hair, or putting a dead frog in my soup, or throwing mud at me, perhaps he was only doing what he had learned. To be mean. Maybe then he didn’t know better.
He went on. “My mother is kind. She used to sing me to sleep when I was a young boy. We’d dance together at parties. I’d stand on her toes because I didn’t know the steps.” He smiled at the memory. “She always called me her savior.”
“Savior?” I asked. It seemed like a strange name for a child.
He licked his lips. “She didn’t tell me why until last year. My mother was taken from her family and sold into slavery. My father found her at a brothel and brought her to the castle. But he... wasn’t kind. He treated her as what she was to him, a slave, even when he knew she was a princess from Collweya. But once she told him I was in her belly, he never hit her again, and they married. Of course I think the only reason he married her was to secure an alliance with Collweya and get an advantage over Delhoon for the war. I think she married him to escape the perpetual cold of Collweya and become a queen.” He paused waiting for my reaction, watching me.
“Is he kind to her now?”
Zyacus shrugged. “He never hurts her. I think he cares for her. But he doesn’t look at her the way King Boaden looks at Queen Daelyn.”
My parents loved each other deeply. They always had, and I never knew how much I should appreciate that until now.
“I will not marry for political gain,” Zyacus said firmly. He picked up a rock and threw it. “If I marry it will be for love or not at all.”
My fingers dug in the dirt to find a pebble to throw. “When your kingdom depends on you, it makes choices more difficult. Aside from the abuse, I understand why your father did what he did.” Even if I wasn’t sure why Zyacus opened up to me, it made my stomach flutter. It made me… wonder. “Despite his faults, I, for one, am glad he made the choice to allow magic in Hesstia. Look where we are now.”
Those winter-blue eyes of Zyacus fell to mine. “In an academy that should not exist. A prince and princess of rival kingdoms sitting by a lake together throwing rocks. Who would have thought?”
The way he gazed at me, it warmed my belly and my heart beat harder like the thundering hooves of a galloping horse. “Why does your father worry about Delhoon still? We are allies now.”
He shook his head. “Oh, it’s probably the trash that his father put in his head. That magic-born would one day take over, become the ruling power and then enslave those who couldn’t use magic just like we’d done to them.” His fingers pulled at the chain around his neck and from underneath his collar spilled out a wolf pendant. The silver animal curled around a light blue stone the size of my thumbnail. “Magic stones are incredibly rare. As much as I hate to admit it, if this was ever taken from me, I’d be weak. I hope my father’s fears are unwarranted. You magic-born are the superior beings. I wish I was born with your gifts, Visteal.”
Never once had he ever hinted that I or anyone was superior to him in any way. It was uncharacteristic of him to admit something like that. “Of course that fear is unwarranted. And even if you are not born with magic in your blood it doesn’t make you any less. You are wickedly talented, Tournament Champion.”
He flashed white teeth. “I like that description. Wickedly talented.” He stood and wiped dirt and grass from his pants. Then held a hand out to me. “It’s getting dark. We should go inside.”
I placed my palm in his and with ease he pulled me up. I slid on my boots then we started back. On the walk he told me more about his father and mother. About his siblings and their antics, the ups and downs. I told him of my brothers and how much I loved them despite their constant pestering. He asked about my life, which was much more carefree than his in some ways. My parents made sure I had fun. We’d race horses through fields of fireflies. Soar through the sky on my father’s dragon Cobalt. One of my favorite memories was visiting the beach and swimming in the ocean where my parents were married.
Zyacus and I had more in common than not, with structured days and lessons all growing up, except for I was never hit or punished for not doing magic correctly and he never did dishes or had visions. He asked how many people I’d seen die, then he asked how he could help me.
“I don’t know,” I said softly. “If sending Aric away saves him, then that will help me. If it doesn’t save him...”
He paused and turned to me. With a husky voice, he said, “Then I’ll be there to wipe your tears, if you’ll be there to wipe mine.”
I think that w
as the moment I realized I wanted him more than I wanted anything.
∞∞∞
When I got to my room I pulled out a book to study for a test the next day. Although Zyacus besieged my thoughts, I hoped I could focus. I lit all the candles in the room and read from Murdocks Magical Mysteries. The test was going to be on how to solve problems with magic. I read the same line five times before I even comprehended what was written. A long night was ahead of me if I had to keep rereading things.
The candle beside me abruptly burned brighter then a small piece of paper folded in half conjured from the flames and floated onto my lap. I peeled it open and the words “I’m sorry” were written in perfect script. No name was attached to the apology but I knew exactly who sent it. I knew his handwriting. I wasn’t sure why he sent an apology, however.
I tapped my toes and before I could even think of what to write back, another paper floated out of the candle. This time he wrote: I should have said it before. I want to take you to the dance. I want you to be my date.
Ugh, I wished my stomach wasn’t flipping with excitement at those simple words. This was a mistake, both of us knew it, and yet I didn’t want to go with Connor. I wanted to go with Zyacus. I’d rather not attend at all then go and see him with her, see him with anyone other than me.
I pulled open my bedside drawer and took out paper and a quill enchanted with endless ink. Brushing the golden feather of it against my cheek, I thought about what to say. After pacing my room for several minutes, I knelt at my bed. I read my note over and over before I sent it, almost tearing it up several times. I thought we both agreed there can’t be anything between us, the words I’d written chanted in my head as I paced, waiting for his response. I picked at my cuticles while my stomach roiled with nerves.
When the paper formed from the flames and fluttered into the air I snatched it with snake striking speed. Maybe we were both wrong.
Breath catching in my chest, I threw the note on my bed and stared at it like it might bite me. I wanted this but everything would change and it scared me.
